


Not Meant to Be

by grantaire_the_cynic



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Soulmates, this is not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-26 00:30:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1668122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grantaire_the_cynic/pseuds/grantaire_the_cynic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sclez:<br/>"More soulmate AU stuff: R getting teased about the fact he doesn’t have a soulmate by assholes, and Les Amis defending him only for Grantaire to lash out because none of them have any idea of what it’s like to be born loveless.<br/>Or Jehan freaking out when he finds out R’s one of the minority of people born without a soulmate because it’s so exquisitely sad, or Joly and Bossuet feeling terrible because they’re both the kind to have two soulmates each.<br/>THINGS."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Meant to Be

Grantaire was alone. It was a fact he’s known since he was fourteen and his wrist was blank. He was the only one in his school. In fact, he was the only one in his town. It was devastating, to say the least. Of course his dad did not care. He told Grantaire to suck it up. But that was easier said than done, so cried himself to sleep for weeks. 

Eventually, Grantaire did manage to get over it. Well, not really, but he no longer cried or even lost sleep over it. He even slowly managed to be alright with it, until the teasing started. At first it was harmless enough “well, you’ll never have to worry about a nagging spouse.” “And we’ll all live happily ever after, except for R.” But as he got older, it got worse. By time he turned eighteen the lighthearted quips turned into “Of course R doesn’t have a soulmate, who would want to be stuck with that?”

Grantaire drank. He drank to silence the horrid things people said. Almost no one was born without a soul mate. He had yet to meet another person who’s wrist was blank like his. He took to wearing long sleeves year round- always pulled up to his hands to hide the lack of either a name or a countdown. The entire concept was stupid in his mind. You go about your life waiting for the moment that something happened and a name appeared on your wrist. Or, for those who were less clear in the direction of their lives, a countdown until they met their soul mate. It all seemed to be too preplanned for his taste. Grantaire preferred not to remind himself that it wasn’t set in stone- that people could change who their soul mate was. Instead, he clung to his vices and tried to ignore the rude comments people gave him. Or the fake pity. That was almost worse. People who didn’t ridicule him for being one of the .02% of society born without a soul mate looked at him with pity. “You poor dear! It must be so horrible to know that you’ll die alone! I can’t even imagine!” 

“Thanks for reminding me.” he often thought. Or said depending on his current mood and state of sobriety. 

It was during his third year of university that he met a group that didn’t seem to care about whether or not he knew who his predestined love was. Or rather, they didn’t care to find out if he had one or not. He met Bahorel and Feuilly first. Feuilly had been in several of his classes- when he was able to attend at all- and Grantaire finally spoke to him at the pub he worked part time in. Bahorel was a regular patron and Grantaire immediately became good friends with them. A few weeks later they dragged him to the meetings they regularly attended. Grantaire was reluctant to go- new people usually tried to grab his wrist and see who his soulmate was. It was really rude, if he was quite honest. 

Grantaire’s breath caught as he approached the table in the back. His eyes fell upon the speaker: a blond man about his height. He was in the middle of a speech, his voice strong and confident, his eyes blazing, and a wayward blond curl dropping onto his forehead. Grantaire stared as he slid into a seat in the back. He did not even notice as Bahorel slipped a beer into his hand. He would definitely be returning. Yup. Definitely.

And he did. Every time there was a meeting, without fail. He found out alot about the other members: Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta were soul mates, as were Marius and Cosette. Eponine was desperately in love with Marius, though her soul mate was someone else. (Does anyone know a ‘Jean-Michael’?” Courfeyrac asked one night, when Eponine’s sleeve rolled up. She blushed deeply and punched Courfeyrac in the arm.) Feuilly and Bahorel’s countdowns were the same, but they said they were not each other’s soul mates. And maybe they weren’t. Jehan supposed that they were going to share a soul mate like Joly and Bossuet. Or that they were just going to meet someone at the same time. Jehan loved soul mates and love. He had Courfeyrac’s name on his wrist, but Courfeyrac only had a countdown. They had not shared their wrists with each other, or anyone else aside from Grantaire. 

Grantaire never showed them or told them. He sidestepped the question or completely changed the subject. In an emergency he faked a phone call emergency and fled the cafe.

********

 

Enjolras deposited Grantaire into his bed, tossing the man’s shoes aside. He had drawn the short straw and had to haul Grantaire home. 

“Why do you do this to yourself?” he asked softly. Grantaire stirred. 

“Because it fills the void.”

“What void?”

“The one you leave.”

Enjolras sighed. He knew this conversation was coming. Grantaire wasn’t exactly subtle about his affections for Enjolras. 

“Grantaire,” Enjolras sighed and sat on the bed. “You know I can’t. I have another soul mate. I don’t know them yet, but I have them. I can’t.”

Grantaire nodded, hiding the tears welling up. “I understand. But you know that soul mates aren’t set in stone. Right?”

“That’s only a theory, R.” Enjolras said softly. “It’s never been documented. Besides, you have your own soul mate to find. They wouldn’t want you to dwell on me.”

“I wish that were so.” Grantaire said, barely audibly. Enjolras frowned, looking at him. 

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing, don’t worry your pretty head, Apollo.” Grantaire mumbled, starting to fall asleep.

“Grantaire, I’m sorry. I wish it could work out between us, I do. I know, despite how oblivious I may seem, how much you love me. And I know we don’t always get along- in fact rarely. But I think this is for the best.” he brushed the hair out of Grantaire’s face. “It can’t work between us. It wasn’t meant to be. I’m sorry.”

 

**********************

 

“Wait, so you know?!” Courfeyrac said, surprised. “Our oblivious, fearless leader is aware of R’s undying love for him??” He mimed fainting.

“Shut up. It can’t be, Courf. I have another soul mate.”

“But how do you know?” Courfeyrac asked. 

“It’s a good question, Enj, you only have a countdown- perhaps it’s a countdown until you realize your feelings for him?”

Enjolras shook his head, then leaned in, whispering: “I don’t think R has a soul mate. I had to haul him home last night, and in the process of getting him into his bed so he didn’t pass out on the floor, his sleeves got pushed up and there was nothing on either wrist. I didn’t say anything to him, he was in a pretty delicate state of mind, but I don’t think R has a soul mate.”  
Jehan looked absolutely mortified. “Wh-what? But that never happens. The odds are like one in a million!” 

They all looked up as Grantaire walked in. No one spoke. 

“What? Did I kiss any of you before I left last night? Is my zipper down? What gives?”

No one spoke. Jehan brushed a tear from his cheek and surged forward, hugging Grantaire tightly. 

“I’m so sorry!” he said. “I’m so sorry R.”

Grantaire looked at Jehan, confused. “Sorry about what?” he asked, instinctively tugging the sleeves of his shirt down.

“You have no soul mate- that’s terrible.” Jehan hugged Grantaire again.

“But, how do you know?” who had found out? Who had told everyone without asking? Anger started bubbling up. “And why the hell are you guys even talking about it behind my back?”

“Grantaire, it was an accident.” Enjolras said. “I accidentally saw, and I wanted advice, because it’s obvious that it is the reason you became the cynic you are. We want to help you.”

Enjolras. Of course it was. It was Enjolras’ attempt at getting Grantaire to fall out of love with him so he could find his soul mate guilt free. Or to have another reason to put him down. 

Before he could respond, someone sitting next to them burst out laughing. 

“Wait, so you have no soul mate what so ever?” they asked between fits of giggling. “Oh man, hey guys, you have to come see this! It’s a loner! A real life loner! Aren’t you guys, like, a myth or something? Am I looking at a mythical creature?”

The man’s friend joined him, staring at Grantaire. “No, don’t give him that much credit- he’s just a guy who’s soul is too rotten for anyone to love. I mean, look at him.” both men shook their heads. “He’s doing the rest of the world a favor by not having a soul mate.”

The Amis anger boiled over. 

“How dare you? How fucking dare you!” Jehan shrieked. He poked the first man in the chest. “Grantaire is twice the man you’ll ever be! He doesn’t need a soul mate to live his life! He doesn’t depend on anyone! He doesn’t need anyone to do anything for him.” 

“Not only that, but he’s managed to live with that reality and not be a total douchenozzle like you are!” Courfeyrac said. “I bet,” he grabbed the man’s wrist, “Michelle would be happier if you had been born with no soul mate- she wouldn’t have to put up with you!”

“It’s not your place to judge, especially since I know for a fact that you are unemployed and that you and your wife live with your parents.” Combeferre said. 

Both men looked absolutely furious and stalked out of the cafe. Bahorel followed them to the door. “And we better not see you again, or I’ll give you a reason to stay away!”

“Don’t worry, R,” Jehan said brightly, “We’ve got your back!”

Grantaire stood up, anger boiling over. “No you don’t!” he shouted. “None of you- not a single one of you knows what it’s like. You don’t know what it feels like to wake up every day and know that you’re destined to die alone. That no matter what you do, how good of a person you are, how much you try, no one will love you! No one is meant for you. I come here every single day and see all of you, with your hopes, your dreams, with your soul mates,” he looked at Bossuet and Joly, then Marius, “And I have to live with the fact that all of my friends have happiness I can never have. And that, at the end of the day, I always finish last. Always. Because as much as you say you love me, that I’m your best friend, that can’t compare to being your soul mate. Yes, Enjolras, THAT is why I drink, THAT is why I’m a cynic, and THAT is why I’ve argued so much. I’ve tried so hard to push you away, to make myself not love you because I know it can never be. I know that. Do you know how fucking hard it is to love someone and know that they don’t love you because of a series of numbers counting down on their wrist?! They don’t love you because of a person they’ve never even met. That’s my reality, and none of your fake pity, or your threats to people who make fun of me will change that. It only makes YOU feel better and absolves you of any guilt you have. Don’t you dare think that ‘having my back’ will ever make any of this better.” he stormed out of the cafe, tears streaming down his face.

Everyone was silent. The whole cafe. Other patrons who had witnessed the incident awkwardly paid for their orders and slipped out, not saying a word. The staff threw awkward glances over at the table in the back. 

“What do we do?” Jehan asked in almost a whisper after about ten minutes had passed and the rest of the cafe returned to their normal conversations.

“I d-don’t know.” Joly said, wiping his eyes. He was leaning against Bossuet, feeling awful. Why should he have two soul mates when R had none? It was so unfair. “It’s not fair.” he whispered. Bossuet hugged him tightly, nodding.   
“We can’t leave him alone.” Combeferre said. “Not with his habits. Someone needs to check on him.” 

No one volunteered. 

“How? He’ll just push us away.” Courfeyrac said. 

“Then you push back harder!” Jehan said, almost shouting. He collected his things. “I’ll do it. Since you all are so quick to defend him, but so slow to help.” He glared down the group and went after Grantaire. His calls went to voicemail and his texts were unanswered. Grantaire’s apartment was empty. His go-to pubs were not open yet, and the few that were only had a couple surly looking people who had not seen Grantaire. Jehan growled in frustration as he walked. He shot off a text to the other Amis.

Can’t find R. not at home. not in any pubs. help.

*******

In the cafe, no one spoke at first, other than Joly’s constant ‘It’s not fair’. Jehan’s departure had left them all realizing that they had in fact been terrible friends. None of them bothered to find out why Grantaire was so cynical, especially about love. Why he drank, why he hated the idea of soul mates. 

“It’s not fair.” Joly said, for the dozenth time. 

“I know, Joly. But it won’t change anything.” Bossuet said.

“What do we do?” Enjolras asked. This was all his fault. Why did he look? He didn’t have to.

“We help Jehan find him.” Combeferre said, looking at his phone. Everyone elses went off at different times, each with a matching text. They paid the waitress and filed out, breaking into pairs and going separate ways.

 

Enjolras found Grantaire, a half empty bottle in hand, huddled under a bridge. The man was still crying and he was hugging his knees. Enjolras sat down next to him, sending a quick text to the others.

“I’m sorry.” he said, mirroring Grantaire’s position and resting his head on his knees. “I didn’t think. It was wrong of me.”

Grantaire did not respond right away. He just stared at the water. “No matter what I do, I can’t be rid of the feeling. Of being totally alone.” 

Enjolras nodded. “I wish there was something I could do. But you and I both know that if we got involved now, it would only lead to heartbreak in a year and a half.”

Grantaire nodded. “I know.” he looked at Enjolras. “What do I do?”

Enjolras couldn’t answer at first. Grantaire’s eyes were red and puffy from crying for over an hour, and from the drink. But what startled him most was how lost and empty they looked. 

“What good is anything I do if I have no one to share it with? What good am I if I have no one to share myself with?”

Enjolras pulled Grantaire into a hug. “Your worth is not measured by another person. It’s measured by you. Only you can figure that out.”

“But how? When everyone measures you by who you love?”

“I don’t know, R. That’s one of the things we’ve been trying to change. But you can figure it out.”

Grantaire shook his head, slamming his bottle down in frustration. It broke into large pieces. Enjolras carefully picked them up without a word and threw them away. He kicked the smaller pieces into the water with his shoe. 

“Grantaire. There’s nothing I can say that will make you feel better, or make any of this better. I know that. But I do hope you’ll listen anyway. You have to find things that make you happy. Whether it’s your art, or looking after Gavroche, or what ever. It’ll never replace a soul mate. I know that. But it’ll show your measure as a person. It’ll give you something to be proud of. Something you can show the world.”

Grantaire just shrugged.

**Author's Note:**

> This is not in the same AU as the other Soulmate fic I posted. this is 100% independent.


End file.
